


Dig Deeper

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Friendship, Post-Hogwarts, The Quidditch Pitch: Leaving Feast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-17
Updated: 2006-08-17
Packaged: 2018-10-27 11:33:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: The ones who think they have nothing to live for are often times the easiest to sway, the easiest to mold, and sometimes the ones with the most to lose.





	Dig Deeper

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

**Beta:** So much love to [](http://nefyr.livejournal.com/profile)[**nefyr**](http://nefyr.livejournal.com/) for being the only one I trusted to read this before I felt ready to post if for everyone to see.  


* * *

_Neville’s hands sink into the dirt easily; fingers gripping the well-sown roots. He has to dig deep to get them out, but he is gentle and tender with them._

__

 

__*~*~*

 

Neville looks at the clock in the hallway. The bright lights are nearly blinding, and he blinks before reading the time. It reads ten twenty two exactly. That means the new night nurse will be making her rounds soon. Once down the left corridor, then back down towards Neville’s parents’ room at the end.

 

The more serious patients will be seen first. It’s always like that now. St. Mungos has been short staffed since the war began in full last June. The ones who need care the most, they’re the ones who get seen first. Neville knows what they really mean though. They mean the ones who might get better, those are the patients who get seen first.

 

It’s been four months, three days, and two hours since the night nurse visited Neville’s parents.

*~*~*

 

_Every so often people tell Neville the roots are in too deep. So deep it seems like maybe the plant might just be wasted, that it’s too late to salvage it and move it to a new home. He never stops trying though, because he knows that sometimes the most difficult ones need the most care._

 

*~*~*

 

Neville squashes the paper cup in his hand and throws it in the rubbish bin. He steps into the hallway, reading the clock again. It’s five minutes past midnight.

 

He peers up and down the hallway, as if looking for someone. Then he sees him, as he’s walking out of the lift. He looks tired. He always looks tired now.

 

Just like clockwork he smiles at the nurse on duty and makes a few seconds of small talk before turning around and walking a few paces down the corridor to room number eight.

 

Neville takes a deep breath and begins walking down the hallway. He rehearses what he will say if someone asks. _“What’s that? Oh, just wanted to ask the nurse a quick question. It’s nothing urgent.”_

 

No one stops him though, no one asks. Sometimes Neville thinks he has become as invisible as his parents. He can’t decide what’s worse; not knowing who you are, or knowing but still being forgotten.

When he nears room eight he pauses, bending down to tie his shoe. It doesn’t matter that he’s wearing loafers.

The door didn’t get shut this time, and he barely has to strain to hear the one-sided conversation.

The voice sounds broken. “I miss you. I miss you like crazy. Sometimes I’m not sure what I’m fighting for anymore, without you right there next to me. And sometimes, sometimes I don’t know if I want to keep on fighting without you. Does that make me a terrible person, Ron?”

Neville stumbles, knocking into the supply table by the door. He’d known who was in there, known all along, but somehow hearing him say the name seems ten times worse. He’s so caught up in his thoughts he doesn’t even hear the footsteps. Doesn’t realize how much noise he’s made, the attention he’s drawing to himself, doesn’t have time to move.

 

The door opens abruptly and Neville is left staring at _him_ , with tiny tear marks running down his cheeks. He looks embarrassed and angry. Neville doesn’t blame him. He knows he shouldn’t be listening.

 

When the other man doesn’t make a move, he feels his palms begin to sweat. He hates awkward situations. Neville looks at him once more before croaking out strangledly, “Harry” and walking stoutly down the hallway. He shuts the door to his parents room and tries to calm his breathing.

 

On the other side of the room his mother begins to stir. She turns to him, open her eyes and looking at him intently.

 

“I’m sorry, but who are you and why are you in my room? Only my son is allowed in here you know.”

 

Neville smiles shakily and leaves to get the nurse.

 

*~*~*

 

_Neville knows the only way to dig up every bad root is to start at the very bottom. He’d tried just uprooting a plant once, and it had come out, but there had been tiny roots left in the bottom of the pot; ones too deep for anyone too see._

 

*~*~*

 

It is two weeks before Neville sees Harry again. Well, two weeks until Harry knows he has seen him anyways, and even then it was barely a nod in his direction. Neville has seen Harry come and go from room number eight every night though.

 

Neville knows that tonight will be different, tonight will be bad. Ron’s been moved to room number ten tonight. He’s almost to the next hallway now. In fact, if he gets moved down again he’ll be in the same row of rooms as Neville’s parents.

 

Neville watches the clock hit midnight. Harry will arrive in exactly five minutes, and he already knows how it will go. Harry will walk up to the nurses’ station and smile at the girl on rounds. She will bat her eyelashes and blush, as if she thought Harry really cared about her. Then, right when Harry starts to walk away she will call him back. She will tell him how sorry she is but that Mr. Weasley has been moved again. Then the yelling will start, and Harry will pitch such a fit that one of the doctors from ward number nine will come down to talk to him.

 

It will take fifteen minutes for Harry to calm down long enough to talk, and another ten before the doctor is able to leave.

 

Neville knows because this is what happened the last eight times Ron was moved. He knows, without even having to gaze down the hallway, that Harry will let out a silent tear as he makes his way into Ron’s room, that he’ll be so upset he will forgets to shut the door all the way, and that he’ll lie down on Ron’s bed and whisper “I’ll never forget you, even when you forgot me,” as he falls asleep, clinging to something that isn‘t there anymore.

 

*~*~*

 

_Neville is good with plants. He knows that sometimes plants can be re-born, if only you wait until just the right moment. If you wait until they have nothing left to live for, and then offer them the tiniest bit of hope. Then sometimes, they’ll cling to anything you offer._


End file.
